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‘I’m Sergeant Judy Johnson. DCI Nelson sent me.’

‘I know you, don’t I?’ says Clara. ‘You were at the party the other night.’

‘Where’s the baby?’

‘Upstairs.’

Judy bounds up the narrow stairs. She isn’t scared now, adrenaline rushes though her. Whatever she is about to see – and during the drive she has imagined every horror possible – she can cope with it. She flings open the door to Ruth’s bedroom and can just make out the cot by the bed. She switches on the overhead light and strides across the room. Kate is lying on her side, a pink blanket pulled up to her chin. She is breathing steadily. Judy takes off her glove and touches the baby’s cheek. It is warm. Kate whimpers.

‘What’s going on?’ Clara is standing behind her. She still sounds scared.

‘You didn’t answer your phone. DCI Nelson was worried.’ Judy is already punching in his number.

‘I was asleep.’

‘Boss?… Yes, she’s fine, I’m looking at her now… of course I’m sure… yes, I’ll tell her… okay.’

Clara is looking at her, almost in awe. ‘How did you get here?’

‘I’ve got a four-by-four.’

‘Why is that druid with you?’

‘I’ll explain in a minute. Any chance of some tea?’

But when they get downstairs the druid has already made tea. The sofa is covered with bedclothes so they sit at the table by the window. There is an odd intimacy between the three of them, sitting at Ruth’s table, in Ruth’s house, drinking Ruth’s tea. Looking after Ruth’s baby. Clara cradles her mug in both hands, staring dreamily into space. Cathbad puts two sugars in Judy’s cup, which is odd because he hasn’t asked whether she takes sugar. She does.

‘Did you tell Nelson?’ he says.

‘Yes.’

‘Did he say thank you?’

‘No.’

‘Was Ruth with him?’

Judy catches Cathbad’s eye. ‘Yes.’

‘The boss wants me to stay the night,’ Judy says to Clara. ‘Is that okay with you?’

Clara shrugs. ‘Suit yourself. There are two beds upstairs. A single and a double.’ She looks curiously from Judy to Cathbad.

‘I’ll take the double,’ says Judy.

*

Ruth is leaning forward, her head between her knees. Nelson’s voice seems to come from a long way off.

‘Are you feeling any better?’

‘Yes.’ With an effort, Ruth straightens up. ‘It’s just the relief. Knowing that she’s safe.’

‘I know.’ Nelson runs his hand though his hair until it stands up like a crest. He’s quite grey now, Ruth notices. His chin is dark with stubble. It must be nearly morning, she thinks.

‘What did Judy say again?’

‘She’d seen Kate. She was sleeping peacefully.’

‘And Clara?’

‘She’d been asleep on the sofa.’

‘Do you think she might have killed Dieter Eckhart?’

‘It’s possible.’ Nelson rubs his face. ‘Stabbing is usually a crime of passion. You say she’d written in her diary that she wanted to kill him?’

‘Yes. I didn’t read any more.’ Ruth points at the little book on the bedside table.

‘I’ll take that with me tomorrow. The scissors too, though they’ll have our prints all over them.’

Ruth shudders. ‘I still don’t like to think of her in the house with Kate.’

‘I told Judy that she or Cathbad had to sleep in the room with her.’

‘What on earth was Cathbad doing there?’

Nelson shrugs. ‘You know Cathbad. He always turns up when you least expect him.’

They both think of other occasions when Cathbad has turned up, just in time to save or be saved. Cathbad is magic, Erik used to say. He certainly seems able to materialise at will.

‘I should go back to my room,’ says Nelson. He picks up Ruth’s watch from the bedside table. Half past two.

‘Yes,’ she says. But neither of them moves.

Ruth thinks that Nelson says something under his breath, but she doesn’t hear. She shuts her eyes, moving towards Nelson as his lips close upon hers.

CHAPTER 24

In the end, Judy opts for the single bed. She just doesn’t like the idea of sharing a room with a baby. What if Kate wakes up crying? That, to Judy, is more terrifying than the hooded figure on the road.

‘It’s all right,’ says Cathbad. ‘I’ll sleep in there.’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Judy. ‘I’m just not very maternal.’

Cathbad looks at her. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

‘Do you have children?’ asks Judy.

‘A daughter.’ Cathbad’s voice drops. ‘I didn’t see much of her when she was growing up. I’m trying to make up for it now.’

They are standing, whispering, on the landing. This, like the snow and the tea earlier, makes them seem ridiculously intimate, as if they’re flatmates or having what Judy’s nieces would call a ‘sleepover’.

‘I’m not sure I want children,’ she says. ‘It’s such a responsibility.’

‘What does your fiancé think?’

Judy hesitates. How does Cathbad know she’s getting married? Has he noticed her engagement ring? There’s something nasty about the way he says ‘fiancé’.

‘We’ve never discussed it,’ she says, with dignity.

Cathbad grins. ‘I’d start discussing it, if I were you.’ And he disappears into Ruth’s room.

Judy washes in the bathroom, noticing that Ruth uses surprisingly expensive soap. What is it about Cathbad that always makes her feel slightly uneasy? She first met him over a year ago. Nelson had needed to get across the Saltmarsh at night, in a storm, and Cathbad had been the only person to know the mysterious hidden pathway. Judy had been impressed with him then. She did not, like the rest of the team, see him as a nutcase, one of the weirdos that often hang around police stations offering unsolicited help and advice. There is a stillness about Cathbad that attracts Judy. He is contained within himself; he doesn’t see the need to seek approval from anyone else. Darren is like a big golden retriever, rushing round and licking everyone. Like me, love me, pat me. And, yes, he wants ten children.

The next time Judy met Cathbad had been at a summer solstice party at the Roman dig at Swaffham. It had been a fairly wild night, she remembers. She had danced with Cathbad but then she had danced with Dave and Irish Ted too. She has an image of Cathbad lighting a fire, high up on a hill. The flames in the darkness, the druids chanting, the scent of burning herbs. Ruth had been there with her archaeologist friend, Max. What had happened to him?

It was only at the naming day party that she had really spoken to Cathbad. They had talked about Catholicism and paganism and the role of godparents. Judy tries to remember whether she told him that she was getting married. She does remember that she’d found him quite attractive at the naming day, which she hadn’t before. What was different?

The spare room is tiny, just a single bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. The rest of the space is taken up with cardboard boxes, stacked one on top of each other. It’s not exactly cosy. The top of the chest is crowded with creams and make-up. Jesus, no wonder Tatjana looks so good. There is also a book written in some incomprehensible language and a picture of a beautiful, dark-eyed child. Judy picks up this last and examines it. She spent a long time chatting to Tatjana after her hen party and she never mentioned that she had a child. She turns the photo over. On the back, in a flowing hand, is written ‘Jacob 1995’.

Judy gets into the narrow bed and determinedly turns out the light. She’d better get some sleep or she’ll be useless tomorrow. The roads will still be bad after all that snow so getting home will be no joke. She supposes that she’ll have to stay here until Ruth or Nelson gets back. She sits up.